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[cassiemaebarnes]

Grumpy & the New Girl: Part 8

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Masterlist

Bucky x reader

Summary: She wasn’t supposed to meet him like that. He wasn’t supposed to let her in. But sometimes, things don’t go according to plan.

Word Count: 5903

Sorry for the wait!! I got busy this week with exams and work😭 but I made this chapter a little longer to hopefully make up for it! I'll try to get the next part out a little quicker😊

While the others made their way to the meeting, you crutched over to the couch and sat down, not bothering to elevate your ankle. It was feeling a lot better, and although there was still some bruising, it wasn’t very swollen anymore.

You scrolled through your phone for about an hour before you heard the elevator ding and the voices of the others cut through the silence. When you looked up, once again, Bucky was the first one into the common room, coming over and immediately taking a seat beside you. His arm went to the back of the couch and his hand found your shoulder like it was all second nature.

“Hey doll,” he said, smirking at you.

You just gave him a look, but you couldn’t stop the smile from coming onto your face as you let out a little laugh.

Before you could get a word in, the rest of the team started filing into the room one by one, voices echoing and conversations overlapping, but every single one of them seemed to slow their step the second they saw you and Bucky.

“Ugh,” Sam groaned dramatically, dropping into the armchair across from you. “The way you two look at each other makes me sick.”

Tony, trailing behind, sipped from his coffee and raised an eyebrow. “Speak for yourself. It��s kinda cute, actually. Like a dating site commercial. So in love, it’s nauseating.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but didn’t move his hand.

Nat leaned over the side of the couch, glancing between the two of you. “Honestly, I think it’s sweet. Gross, but sweet.”

You groaned into your hands. “I can’t even sit on a couch anymore?”

“You can,” Clint said from the kitchen, “but do it like a normal person, not like you’re starring in The Notebook: Avengers Edition.”

You shot Bucky a sideways glance, and he looked far too pleased with himself.

Steve finally walked in, glanced around at the chaos, and sighed. “Alright, enough. We’re not doing this again.”

“You say that every day,” Sam muttered.

Steve ignored him and turned to you. “I actually wanted to talk to you for a sec. You’re cleared to start physical therapy tomorrow.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

“It’ll be light,” Steve added, nodding toward your ankle. “But yeah. That means you should try putting a little weight on it today, see how it feels. Get used to it again.”

You glanced down at your ankle, then at your crutches resting beside the couch. “Okay…I can try.”

“I’ll help you,” Bucky added immediately.

A beat of silence passed before the others cut in.

Sam clutched his chest. “Oh my god, he's her emotional support soldier.”

Tony looked like he was about to cry. “They grow up so fast.”

Steve just shook his head, like he regretted every decision that brought this team together.

--

For the next hour, you were all lounging in the common room while conversations bounced lazily around the space. You’d been sipping water for the last hour, and now…nature was calling.

You sighed and pushed the blanket off your lap, slowly swinging your legs over the edge of the couch.

Immediately, Bucky sat up straighter.

“Where are you going?” he asked, already getting to his feet like he had a sixth sense for when you were about to move.

You gave him a look, amused. “Bathroom.”

He nodded without hesitation. “Okay. I’ll help you.”

You barely had time to react before the others caught on.

Sam practically fell off the chair. “Help her?” he cackled. “What are you gonna do, hold her hand while she pees?”

Nat nearly choked on her drink. “Oh my god, Bucky. Boundaries, man.”

Clint leaned forward, elbows on his knees, grinning. “Is this a two-person operation now? You gonna give her a pep talk from the doorway?”

Tony didn’t even look up from his tablet. “Let’s just be clear: if you’re gone more than 5 minutes, we’re shutting this whole thing down.”

You were laughing so hard you had to grab the arm of the couch to steady yourself, shaking your head. “I can pee on my own, guys. I just need help walking.”

“I’m just saying,” Sam added, “you two get more domestic every day. I’m waiting for him to start pre-heating the toilet seat for you.”

“Don’t give him ideas,” you wheezed.

Bucky just shook his head and offered you his hand. “C’mon, before they start planning our retirement.”

You took his hand and stood up slowly, still chuckling. “You’re not even denying it anymore.”

“I learned my lesson,” he said dryly. “Denial just gives them more material.”

As you hobbled your way toward the hall with Bucky at your side, you heard Tony call after you, “Remember to leave the door cracked, lovebirds. We need updates!”

You flipped him off behind your back without even turning around.

And as the two of you disappeared down the hall, the laughter behind you only got louder.

When you and Bucky returned to the common room, you walked in like it was no big deal – you leaning on his arm, walking a little better now but still wincing every few steps. He was quiet and calm beside you, his hand hovering near your waist like he was ready to catch you again if you so much as wobbled.

Naturally, the second you crossed into the room, you were met with more teasing.

Sam sat up straighter on the couch, eyes already glinting. “Well, well, well. Took you long enough.”

Nat smirked from where she was perched on the arm of the loveseat. “Everything come out okay?”

You stopped walking and gave them a flat look. “Really? That’s where we’re going with this?”

Clint let out a low whistle. “You sure you didn’t sprain more than your ankle in there?”

Tony looked up from his tablet. “I’m just saying, you could’ve walked on your ankle with your crutches for assistance instead of Bucky.”

You groaned, flopping dramatically onto the couch. “We were gone for two minutes.”

Bucky sat beside you calmly, completely composed.

Then–

“Well,” he said, voice casual, “I did help her with a few things.”

You froze.

So did everyone else.

“…Excuse me?” you said, blinking at him.

He turned to you with a fake-innocent expression. “What? You needed help standing… balancing…”

You narrowed your eyes. “Bucky.”

He smirked, slow and dangerous, the kind of smirk that meant he knew exactly what he was doing. “I mean, I offered more help. She said no.”

Gasps all around.

“BUCKY!” you yelled, eyes wide as your hand smacked against his arm.

Sam howled, falling sideways into the cushions. “OH MY GOD. He’s unhinged.”

“Buck!” Steve choked, genuinely shocked but laughing anyway. “What happened to ‘respectful silence’?”

Nat was doubled over, her face buried in a throw pillow. “He’s corrupted! He’s fully gone.”

“I take no responsibility,” Tony said, raising his hands. “This is entirely on Sleeping Beauty.”

You were still glaring at Bucky. “You are so lucky I can’t run right now.”

He just leaned back into the couch, completely unbothered. “Just saying…if she ever needs other help…”

You gasped again, smacking his chest with the back of your hand before hiding your face as the room exploded into another round of laughter.

“DID YOU HEAR HIM?!” Clint yelled, nearly in tears. “This man’s got material.”

Wanda wiped a tear from her eye. “Winter Soldier’s gone full flirt mode.”

Bucky glanced sideways at you, his smirk softening just slightly. “What? I’m just being helpful.”

You peeked at him from behind your hands, face burning. “You’re gonna get me murdered by this team.”

“Nah,” he murmured, “they’d never kill the star of their favorite rom-com.”

You let out a helpless little groan and dropped your face onto his shoulder.

And Bucky just wrapped his arm around you like he’d done nothing wrong at all.

--

A little while later, Wanda looked up from the puzzle she was half-attempting with Vision. “I’m bored, we should put on a movie.”

“I second that,” Sam said, tossing a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

“Since we can never decide on a movie, we should draw genres,” Wanda suggested. “Make it fair. Everyone writes one, toss them in a bowl, we pick blind.”

Everyone mumbled in agreement, and within minutes, a makeshift bowl of hastily scribbled paper scraps sat on the coffee table.

Steve was chosen as the unbiased picker. He dramatically shuffled them, reached in, and unfolded one with a raised brow.

He stared at it.

“…Rom-com.”

A beat.

The room groaned and cheered simultaneously.

Sam looked personally offended. “You’re kidding.”

Nat grinned. “Let the chaos begin.”

Tony threw his arms up. “YES. We’re going full heart-eyes tonight.”

Wanda turned to you with a knowing look. “You’re getting off easy. Rom-com’s practically your genre.”

You tried to hide your smile and shrugged innocently. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“Okay, okay,” Clint called. “What are we watching? It has to be a classic.”

“10 Things I Hate About You,” Nat said immediately. “It’s not even up for debate.”

There were a few half-hearted objections, but no one could argue.

Soon, the movie was up, lights dimmed, snacks passed around, and everyone was claiming their spots.

You were still on the couch beside Bucky, a shared blanket draped over both your laps. His arm was still settled comfortably behind your shoulders, fingertips just brushing your upper arm. You curled your good leg underneath you, your knee resting gently against Bucky’s thigh.

He didn’t move away.

As the opening scenes rolled, the background chatter faded, replaced by soft laughter and the sounds of popcorn crunching.

A little while into the movie, Bucky’s hand – the one not around your shoulders – shifted beneath the blanket.

Without warning, his fingers brushed lightly against your leg.

Then rested right on your thigh, just above your knee.

You froze.

Your breath caught for half a second. The contact was casual – warm and steady – but somehow it made your whole body buzz.

He didn’t look at you. Didn’t say anything. Just left his hand there, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

You tried to focus on the movie, you really did.

But your heart was pounding.

After a few moments, though, the initial jolt settled. His touch wasn’t demanding or heavy, it just was. And it grounded you, made your chest ache in the nicest way.

You exhaled slowly, eyes drifting toward the screen again.

And that’s when Sam, of course, turned from the floor, where he was sprawled on a bean bag, and narrowed his eyes.

“Hey.”

You and Bucky both looked over.

Sam pointed at the two of you under the blanket. “What’s Barnes doing under there?”

Your mouth dropped open. “Sam.”

“No, no, I’m just asking,” he said, hands raised. “Because that blanket’s suspiciously still and I’ve seen that man break necks with his pinky. You’re telling me he hasn’t moved in twenty minutes?”

Bucky, still calm, still casual, raised a brow. “I’m watching the movie.”

“Are you?” Clint chimed in from the armchair. “Because from here it looks like your hand’s on a side quest.”

The room erupted into snickering.

“Where’s the hand, Barnes?” Tony called dramatically. “We need visual confirmation.”

The room went quiet for a beat, anticipation thick in the air.

Then Bucky, without missing a beat, deadpanned, “Can’t show you. It’s classified.”

The group howled.

“BUCKY!” you gasped, smacking his chest with the back of your hand as your jaw dropped. “What is wrong with you?!”

He just shrugged, clearly proud of himself, that smug little smirk tugging at his mouth.

Clint nearly fell off his chair. “He said classified. I’m crying.”

Sam was doubled over, slapping his leg. “Is it stuck? Blink twice if you need help, y/n!”

“Oh my god,” you muttered, burying your face in Bucky’s shoulder as the laughter got louder.

Tony clapped once. “Confirmed: he’s gone full feral. I knew this day would come.”

Nat laughed into her mug. “Honestly? Kinda impressed.”

You were trying to bury your face in Bucky’s side now, half-laughing, half-horrified, your voice muffled. “You are never allowed to speak again.”

He just leaned a little closer to you, speaking so only you could hear, voice low and amused. “You’re cute when you panic.”

You turned your face toward him, still flustered but smiling now, and smacked his chest again. “Stop talking.”

The movie played on, but no one was really paying attention anymore.

Not when Bucky Barnes – Mr. Brooding himself – was cracking jokes like it was open mic night.

Finally, the room had quieted down again as the movie continued playing.

On the screen, Kat Stratford stood in front of the class, her voice trembling just slightly as she read her poem.

You felt it coming.

The tight ache in your throat. The sting behind your eyes.

You weren’t a crier, especially not in front of everyone, but something about this scene always got you, and after the whirlwind of the past few days, it hit even harder now.

You blinked rapidly, trying to be subtle, and quickly wiped at the corner of your eyes with your sleeve.

But Bucky noticed instantly.

He shifted beside you, his arm tightening gently around your shoulders. Then, without a word, he pulled back just enough to look at you – really look.

You didn’t meet his eyes.

His brows furrowed slightly in that way they always did when he was focused. Concerned. And then, softly, his hand slipped away from your thigh under the blanket and reached up.

He used the pad of his thumb to wipe a stray tear from your cheek.

You froze.

The motion was so gentle, so tender, your breath caught in your chest.

Then–

“Oh hell no,” Nat said, breaking the silence.

You flinched and turned your head just as she sat up straighter, smirking like she’d just uncovered the juiciest secret in the world.

“Did he just wipe your tear away mid-rom-com?!”

Sam leaned forward dramatically. “That’s it. He’s done for. He’s all in. That was a whole Hallmark Channel move.”

Clint clutched his chest. “We’ve reached peak softness! I REPEAT – peak softness!”

Tony made a fake crying face. “Someone get me a tissue.”

You groaned, half laughing, half mortified, and pressed your hands to your face. “I hate you all so much.”

Bucky leaned back slowly, completely unfazed. “Don’t worry,” he said calmly, “I’ll get you a tissue next time too.”

You smacked his arm with the blanket, which only made the others laugh louder.

“I’m surrounded by emotional disasters,” Steve muttered, sipping his coffee.

Wanda was grinning behind her mug. “No, Steve. You’re surrounded by love.”

As the team slowly recovered from their collective breakdown, you leaned a little more into Bucky’s side – heart still fluttering and face still warm – and whispered just for him. “Thanks.”

He didn’t say anything.

Just squeezed your shoulder a little tighter.

As the credits rolled and the soft soundtrack faded out, the common room slowly came back to life.

Sam stretched with a groan, mumbling something about needing real food. Tony announced he was “not cooking for you people,” and Clint was already halfway to the hallway, muttering about laundry. One by one, the others trickled out, Steve heading to unpack, Wanda to her room, Nat grabbing a snack before disappearing into the hall.

You stayed curled under the blanket on the couch, watching the room empty. Bucky stayed beside you, not saying anything, just running his thumb absentmindedly along your shoulder.

When the kitchen finally quieted down again, he turned to you.

“You hungry?”

You turned your head toward him, a little surprised by the question, but your stomach answered for you with a low, unmistakable growl.

Bucky smirked. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

You gave a sheepish smile. “Starving.”

He stood and held out a hand. “C’mon. Let’s make something.”

“You’re not just gonna cook for me again?” you teased, taking his hand as he helped you up.

“I mean I could, but what’s the fun in that,” he said, grinning.

You limped your way into the kitchen with him, heading straight for the fridge as he started pulling out ingredients. Bread, cheese, butter, a pan.

“We need to add garlic salt to the bread” you said, already reaching for the spice rack.

“Really?” he said, eyebrows raised.

“Yesss, it makes it 10 times better,” you said.

He grinned and opened the bread bag. “Fair enough.”

You walked over to the stove and grabbed a piece of bread out of the bag, starting to butter it, when you shifted your weight and immediately winced.

“Sit down,” he said, amused. “You’re gonna fall face-first into the skillet.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

You rolled your eyes but gave in, hopping up onto the kitchen island with a slight grunt and letting your ankle dangle. “Happy?”

“Very,” he said, already back at the stove.

You helped from the island, passing him the cheese slices, sprinkling garlic salt on the bread, talking softly while he grilled everything.

When the sandwiches were cooking, Bucky stepped back from the stove and leaned against the counter for a moment. Then he turned and wandered closer – right up to where you were sitting.

He set one hand on the island beside you – not touching, but close – while you continued talking.

The conversation faded naturally, and you glanced up – suddenly realizing how close he was.

His face was just inches from yours, and his body was relaxed, but you could tell he was aware of every inch between you. Or, rather, the lack of inches.

Your heart picked up.

His gaze flicked briefly to your mouth – just for a second – and then back to your eyes.

You didn’t say anything.

Neither did he.

Then–

Ding.

The timer went off, and the skillet let out a loud sizzle at the same time.

Bucky blinked, like he’d just come out of a trance, and casually stepped back without a word, turning to grab a spatula.

You just stared at his back, trying to pull yourself together as he plated the sandwiches.

He slid your plate into your lap and handed you a water bottle from the fridge before jumping up next to you with his own plate.

The two of you ate your sandwiches right there on the counter like it was the most normal thing in the world – legs dangling, plates balanced on your laps – as your conversation continued.

“You’re telling me,” you said, chewing, “you had this level of domestic skill locked away this whole time?”

Bucky gave a small shrug. “Didn’t think it’d impress anyone.”

You snorted. “Bro, you literally wiped away my tears during a rom-com. You’re already halfway to husband of the year.”

He rolled his eyes, but there was a slight pink in his cheeks. “I’m just trying to keep the bar low so I look impressive doing the bare minimum.”

You bumped your knee gently against his. “Smart man.”

After you both finished, the plates were left beside you, and the conversation turned soft and easy, like it always did with him lately. You swung your good leg back and forth beneath the counter, while Bucky leaned back on his hands, head tilted slightly toward you as he listened.

And then, without thinking much, you said, “You know what sounds good right now?”

“What?” he asked.

You smiled. “Ice cream.”

Bucky let out a soft hum of agreement, but the topic drifted. You went right back to talking about something else and you didn’t think anything of it.

A few minutes later, Bucky stood up, walking over to the freezer.

He opened the door, rummaged around for a few seconds, then straightened up with a sigh. “Get your shoes on.”

You blinked. “What?”

He turned back to you, already reaching for his keys from the hook near the back door. “C’mon. I’m taking you to get ice cream.”

Your eyes lit up before you could stop yourself, and you tried to fight the giddy smile that came across your face. “Wait, really? No, Bucky, that’s okay. I didn’t mean–”

He tilted his head at you. “Do you want ice cream?”

You hesitated. “Well, yeah, but–”

“Then you’re getting ice cream.”

You bit your lip to hold back a smile, but couldn’t hide it. “Okay.”

You jumped off the counter onto your good leg as Bucky instinctively reached out to steady you. You walked over to the door and slid on your shoes.

“I just need to grab a jacket from my room real quick.”

But before you could take a step, Bucky reached into the hall closet, pulled something out, and turned back around – holding one of his black leather jackets in his hands.

“Nah,” he said. “You can wear one of mine.”

You looked at him, blinking. “Seriously?”

“‘Course,” he said simply, stepping closer.

He held it out for you and you slipped your arms into the sleeves. The leather was worn and soft, and immediately smelled like him – clean and familiar.

He helped adjust the shoulders, tugging it into place like he’d done it a hundred times.

“You look good in it,” he said offhandedly, but his voice had dropped just enough to make your stomach flip.

You zipped it halfway, glancing up at him. “You really didn’t have to do this, you know.”

“I wanted to,” he said, like it was the easiest thing in the world. “Let’s go get your ice cream.”

And with that, he held out his arm so you could loop yours through for balance and led you toward the elevator.

The elevator dinged softly and you stepped out, the garage cool and quiet this late in the evening.

You both walked around to the passenger side of the car and he opened the door for you, letting you get settled before he closed it and went around to the driver’s side.

You kept up the casual conversation in the car, and it wasn’t long before you pulled up outside a little corner shop, the kind of place that always smelled like waffle cones and childhood.

Inside, it was quiet, just the hum of the freezer and the soft bell over the door. He looked down at the options while you stared into the freezer, eyes wide. “Okay, I forgot how hard this part is.”

“Life-altering decisions,” Bucky said with a smirk. “Choose wisely.”

“You’re gonna judge me, aren’t you?”

“I’m definitely gonna judge you.”

You laughed and ended up pointing to your usual – something sweet and a little over-the-top with cookie chunks and brownie pieces and caramel swirl, of course. Bucky raised a brow.

“Figures,” he muttered, but he ordered it for you anyway.

He went with butter pecan, and you gave him an amused look. “That’s an old man flavor,” you said, giggling while the worker started scooping your choices.

He just side-eyed you, smile peeking through his attempt at an annoyed look. “I am old.”

You continued giggling as the worker handed you your waffle cone and Bucky pulled out his wallet.

After he paid, you grabbed a small table outside, the night air cool against your cheeks as you sat across from him.

You licked your ice cream slowly, then looked up at him. “Thanks for this.”

He shrugged like it was nothing. “Figured you deserved it.”

You gave him a soft smile. That shouldn’t have made your heart skip, but it did.

You continued eating, until a few minutes later, Bucky broke the silence.

“You’ve got…” Bucky motioned to the corner of his mouth.

You stuck out your tongue and licked it, but Bucky just chuckled, making it obvious you missed it.

He leaned forward without thinking.

“Here,” he said softly, reaching across and brushing his thumb against the corner of your lip.

Your breath caught.

His hand lingered for a second too long, eyes flicking down, just once, before he pulled away.

“Got it,” he murmured.

You tried to focus on your ice cream, but you could feel the heat in your face and the rapid beating of your heart like it was trying to break through your ribcage.

When you looked up at him again, he was already watching you.

The moment stretched.

And just like earlier, he didn’t push it.

He finally leaned back in his chair, taking another bite, and said, “so…what’s next after ice cream? You wanna rob a bank or just head back?”

You laughed, grateful for the shift but still feeling that tension humming under your skin.

“Let’s save the bank robbery for our second date.”

He paused for a half-second, then smiled. “Noted.”

On the ride back to the compound, you settled into easy conversation again, still teasing Bucky about his old-man ice cream flavor. When he parked the car and you both got out, you automatically linked your arm through his as you walked to the elevator and got in.

When the elevator doors slid open, you both stepped off laughing, still linked at the arms, walking close like you didn’t even realize how naturally it was happening now.

Bucky was giving you that boyish, slightly smug smile he only gave you, when you rounded the corner into the kitchen where Nat and Wanda were pulling ingredients out of the pantry.

They both looked up at the sound of your laughter.

Nat’s eyes flicked from you to Bucky, taking in the jacket, the linked arms, the flushed cheeks.

Wanda didn’t even try to hide her smirk.

“Wow,” Nat said, closing the pantry door. “Look who came strolling in like they just got back from a rom-com montage.”

Wanda nudged her and grinned. “And in his jacket, no less. Very subtle.”

You laughed softly and gave Bucky a look like see what I have to deal with? “We just went for ice cream.”

“Of course you did,” Wanda said, amused but kind. “Was it good?”

“The best,” Bucky answered easily, eyes on you for a second too long.

Nat raised a brow but didn’t push it – for once. “We’re about to make cookies. You in?”

“Ooooh, yes,” you said. You turned toward Bucky, expecting him to stay, but Nat stepped in quickly with a smirk.

“Sorry, Barnes. This is girls only.”

Bucky chuckled, totally unbothered. “Fair enough.”

You just laughed as you slipped your arm out of his. As he started to walk away, he gave you one last look, warm and lingering. “See ya, doll.”

You smiled. “See ya.”

He turned and walked off, hands in his pockets, still smiling to himself.

As soon as he disappeared down the hall, you started slipping off his jacket, and before you could even get one arm free, the girls jumped in.

“Oh my god,” Nat said, grinning. “You’re so in love.”

Wanda leaned against the counter, hands clasped. “He wiped your tears and gave you his jacket? You two really are straight out of a rom-com.”

You gave them a look, trying not to blush. “You’re being so dramatic.”

“You’re lucky we’re being nice tonight,” Nat teased, taking the jacket and hanging it over a chair for you. “A few weeks ago we would’ve sent a photo to the entire group chat with a ‘look who’s in love’ caption.”

“She still might,” Wanda added with a shrug.

You just shook your head, cheeks warm, but you were smiling too.

You walked over and joined Nat and Wanda at the kitchen island, ingredients spread out across the counter. You all settled into a steady rhythm of measuring and dumping them into the bowl as you talked, soft music playing in the background from Wanda’s phone. It was easy and comforting, the kind of energy you didn’t realize you needed.

Wanda handed you a spoon and sighed. “You’re on stirring duty now,” she said. “My arm’s about to fall off.”

You took it, and as you stirred the thick dough, Nat leaned against the counter beside you and gave you a look.

“So,” she said casually, brushing flour off her hands. “You and Bucky.”

You froze for just a second before looking up at her. “Oh boy.”

Wanda smiled gently and bumped your arm with hers. “Don’t worry, we’re not gonna ambush you. We’re just…curious.”

Nat raised an eyebrow. “It’s happening fast, huh?”

You looked down at the dough for a second, then nodded. “Yeah. I mean…I didn’t expect it. Any of it.”

Wanda leaned her elbows on the counter, chin in her hands. “But you’re not freaking out?”

You let out a quiet laugh. “No. That’s the weird part. It should feel like too much too fast, but it doesn’t. It just feels…easy. Like he was always supposed to be part of my life, and I just didn’t realize it until now.”

Both of them went still and quiet for a beat, so you glanced up.

Wanda looked like her heart had just melted.

Nat blinked once. “Wow. Okay. You’re in deep.”

“I know,” you groaned, dropping your head onto your arm on the counter. “It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s adorable,” Wanda said firmly.

Nat crossed her arms, but her smirk had softened. “You know, for a guy who used to look like he wanted to murder everyone who made eye contact, he’s been grinning like a golden retriever every time you’re together.”

You peeked up from your arm. “Really?”

Wanda nodded. “Like, disgustingly soft.”

“Gross,” Nat muttered. “But also…kind of sweet.”

You sat up a little straighter, a little less panicked now. “You really think he feels the same?”

Wanda smiled, eyes warm. “We know he does.”

Nat grinned and bumped your hip with hers. “And if he doesn’t make a move soon, we’ll force him to.”

You just laughed, heart full and cheeks warm as you continued to stir the dough.

When you were done, you each started rolling the cookie dough, placing them on a baking sheet as the conversation drifted to something else before popping them into the oven.

The first batch of cookies came out golden and warm, filling the kitchen with that perfect, rich smell of sugar and melted chocolate. Nat wasted no time breaking one apart, the chocolate still gooey in the middle, and popped half into her mouth with a satisfied hum.

“Okay,” she said with her mouth full, “we actually nailed it.”

Wanda grinned and grabbed one of her own. “We’re unstoppable.”

You took a bite of yours and immediately closed your eyes. “Oh my god. These are so good.”

The three of you stood at the counter, nibbling on cookies straight from the tray with chocolate smudges on your fingers, laughing in between bites.

Eventually, Wanda grabbed a cloth and started wiping the counter while Nat began stacking mixing bowls in the sink.

“You should take some to Bucky,” Wanda said casually, glancing over her shoulder.

You blinked. “What?”

Nat smirked, not even looking up from the bowl she was rinsing. “You know. Thank him for the ice cream. Offer a peace cookie. Maybe kiss him a little.”

You groaned, rolling your eyes as you started gathering up dishes and taking them to the sink. “You guys are obsessed.”

Wanda shrugged, very unbothered. “We just support love.”

Nat turned around, still smirking at you. “You’re the one who walked in here in his jacket, glowing like you just got kissed under a streetlamp in a rom-com, and we’re the obsessed ones?”

“I’m just taking him some cookies,” you said, grabbing a plate and stacking a few still-warm ones on it. “That’s all.”

“Uh-huh,” they said in unison.

You gave them both a pointed look, but your smile gave you away. “You guys are ridiculous.”

“We know,” Wanda said sweetly.

Nat just pointed toward the hallway. “Go on, don’t keep him waiting.”

You shook your head with a soft laugh and made your way out of the kitchen. Behind you, you could still hear them giggling as you disappeared down the hall.

When you got to his room, the door was slightly cracked, light spilling into the hall in a soft glow.

You nudged it open with your foot and leaned in. “Hey.”

Bucky looked up from where he was sitting on his bed, phone in hand, and the second he saw you, his whole face lit up.

“Hey. You brought cookies?” he asked, already standing and making his way toward you. “They smell so good.”

You held out the plate with a smile. “Courtesy of girls’ night.”

He took the plate carefully, his eyes never leaving yours. “I wondered whether or not I would get to taste-test.”

Then, gently, his free hand settled on your lower back as he guided you into the room.

“C’mon, sit,” he said softly, helping you over to his bed.

You walked over to his bed and plopped down, wincing when the pressure was finally off your ankle. You didn’t realize how sore it was until now.

Bucky didn’t miss a beat.

He set the plate down on the nightstand, gave you a quick glance, and without a word, crossed to the little mini fridge in the corner of his room.

He pulled out a small ice pack, walked back over, and knelt down in front of you, gently lifting your leg and setting the cold pack on your ankle.

You blinked at him. “I didn’t even say anything.”

“You didn’t have to,” he said, not looking up as he adjusted the angle. “You’ve been walking around on it all day. I knew it would catch up to you.”

Your heart squeezed in your chest.

He sat down next to you, close but comfortable, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Then he picked up the plate again, offering you the first cookie with a soft smile.

You took it as he grabbed one for himself and leaned over and grabbed the remote.

“What are we watching?” you asked as you took a bite.

“I don’t care,” he said, pressing the power button. “You can choose.”

You just hummed and reached your hand out while he immediately set the remote in it. You scrolled through some options before deciding on a comedy movie you’d seen a million times and handing the remote back to him.

“Never seen this one,” he said, taking another bite of his cookie.

“Oh, it’s so funny, you’re gonna love it,” you responded, smiling up at him.

You sat in silence as the movie started, sitting shoulder to shoulder and snacking on the cookies, laughing together after almost every scene.

You swore to yourself you were actually going to stay awake, wanting to see his reactions to all the funniest scenes, but as you were nearing the end of the movie, you could feel yourself drifting off.

You shifted slightly, your good leg brushing his, and let out the softest little sigh. “M’falling asleep,” you murmured, voice barely audible.

Bucky glanced down, smiling as he saw your eyes flutter shut.

“I figured,” he whispered, his voice low, gentle. “You’ve had a big day.”

You just hummed in response as you felt Bucky’s arm go around you, pulling you closer to him.

And just before you slipped completely into sleep, you felt it–

The soft press of his lips on your forehead.

Barely there, but real, warm.

And the last thing you heard was his quiet voice near your hair.

“Sweet dreams, doll.”

--

Part 9 | Masterlist

Tag list: @ordelixx @read-just-cant-stop @erinallene @crazycleo @magnoliamermaid @thewriters64 @nelachu2423 @kjah97 @awesompawsum @winchestert101 @buckyb-stan @crazyunsexycool @buckysmetalgoddamnarm @buckybarnesfic @ozwriterchick @multiversefanfics @blavikennbutcher @mysoggywaffle @nameless-ken @starfly-nicole @440mxs-wife @vicmc624 @lostinspace33 @prettylittlepluviophile @softpia @maryevm @glossy01 @ye-olde-trash-panda @bonnyclydecat

[atwhughesversion]

Canucksblr’s “most Canuckian experience” bracket — Round 1, Poll 5

the winner of Poll 4 was “Pettersson cubed — ‘Help me, Dave.’ ‘Godspeed, Shorty.’” and just like that, we are halfway finished with Round 1!

for the next one, we have two very ~canucks~ games going up against each other. context is below the poll as always!

The context:

november 29, 2024, we visited our 1970 expansion brothers in suffering (the buffalo sabres). how did the game start? buffalo goal, of course. but then, the Good canucks showed up: by the midway point of the third period, they’d scored 3 unanswered goals and the game was 3-1. in the bag, right? wrong, because this is the canucks. they just couldn’t help themselves, and allowed buffalo — buffalo (no offence, buffalo) — to tie the game up 3-3. (wanna know the 3rd period shots? 18-6, buffalo. yeah.) to OT we went. and the canucks and OT? bad things happened there this season. luckily for us, buffalo buffaloed, and conor garland scored the game winner (with peteyquinn assists!). canucks won, just as we all had total faith that they’d do the whole time, especially when they were busy blowing their lead!

march 22, 2025, the canucks visited the rangers. it was these teams’ first time meeting since miller had been traded, and with both teams in a battle for their playoff lives, all eyes were on petey and miller’s “reunion.” the good news? the canucks brought their best effort, genuinely. they played like their playoff chances depended on it — they outshot the rangers 39-12, petey won 100% (all 2) of his faceoffs against his arch rival, and the canucks pushed to tie the game multiple times, showcasing their perseverance. the bad news? they lost 5-3, petey and höglander both got injured and ended up being sent home from the road trip (höggy missed a couple weeks, and petey ended up missing the rest of the season. mind you, this was after filip chytil — our second line centre at that point — was already out for the season with a concussion), and jt miller scored an empty net goal to seal the canucks’ fate. because of course he did.

[sturnioz]

I’m bored so imma ask questions about bun

how tall do you think bun is compared to Chris?

what sports/activities has bun done during her child hood / now?

is bun more of a chocolate or vanilla girl?

where is one place bun wants to travel?

how often does she hang out w bee, kitty, nick, Nate etc (tg or separate)?

where does bun work?

Does bun have any animals? If none what animals does she want?

what’s buns favorite holiday? What’s her least favorite?

does bun have a ‘crush’ on Chris?

does bun wish she ever had siblings ?

bonus:

how often is cherry at Chris’s frat parties? And whenever she is there does she think about bun n Chris?

oh such great questions.

﹙1﹚ i dont really talk abt the height difference between bun and chris cos the reader (bun) is inclusive and ofc my readers are all different heights. you can happily imagine whatever height you want for bun to suit your needs !!

﹙2﹚bun used to swim a lot as a child. she was never really into things like soccer, gymnastics, volleyball, softball etc etc. she's also really clumsy so anything to do with running or balancing... yeah. not for her.

﹙3﹚chocolate girl !! she has a very baaaaad sweet tooth. she loves chocolate.

﹙4﹚there isn't one specific place bun likes to travel cos overall, she wants to travel to all places. shes so curious and eager to learn abt different parts of the world.. she wants to visit each place at least once.

﹙5﹚she hangs out with bee every day cos she lives with her. days she hangs out with nick and kitty vary each week cos the trio can be busy, but they do try and make time for each other (well.. kitty and nick practically force bun to take a break from whatever she's doing to hang out). bun hangs out with nate either when she visits the frat house (sometimes on weds and almost every weekend) or whenever nate comes over to be with bee.

﹙6﹚ bun sometimes works in the library !

﹙7﹚ bun doesn't have any animals, and she never had her own family pet growing up either.

﹙8﹚ christmas is bun's favourite holiday, halloween is her least favourite. although !! she doesn't hate it cos she gets treats, it just isn't at the top of her list.

﹙9﹚ bun isn't sure how she feels abt chris. her feelings are all over the place when it comes to him, she can't decipher what it is..

﹙10﹚ not really !! only cos she has a big family filled with cousins so they were practically like her siblings growing up.

﹙11﹚ cherry is pretty much at all frat parties, and truthfully, she doesn't give a fuck abt bun. chris is the one she thinks abt sometimes cos she misses him—misses the sex.

[floweryvibes]

Puppet Darling - Part 9

I said I was back, and then I was so not back lol (blame college and finals. I am innocent)

Warning: Rhysand is really pulling out all of his emotional manipulation abilities for this one.

Credit: Inspired by @wallflowers-in-the-wind’s post here.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8

Feyre snuggled close to Nesta, hugging her sister. Nesta groaned softly, but remained asleep.

I am sorry.

Feyre wasn’t sure how many times she had uttered and thought these words by this point but she was pretty sure it was still not enough. 

Apparently while they had been left alone for that week, Eris and Tamlin had been busy staging a coup in the Autumn Court. According to Tamlin, Eris fought his father and won, claiming the throne as his own.

Deeming the court safe enough, they secretly moved her and Nesta into the palace after a couple days.

Nyz snoozed quietly, shifting slightly in his new crib.

He really was taking the constantly changing environment like a champ.

Feyre sat up as the mating bond hummed, throbbing with annoyance. 

Did you trust Mor so much to get me back that you didn’t bother antagonizing me during our fight, or were you busy with something else?

The latter thought made Feyre shiver, forcing her completely out of bed. Quietly, she pulled a shawl around herself, walking down the hallway of the private wing of the palace. 

I wonder if there’s any snacks around here?

She paused before the door to the kitchen space, hearing Tamlin’s and Eris’s voice.

“We can’t simply launch an assault.”

“Well, we can’t wait around either.”

“Then what do you propose?” Eris sighed. 

“We have our men search for Elain and Lucien while we’re at the meeting with all the High Lords. They can scout out and gather information. If we’re lucky they get them out. If not, we shall use the recon work to make a plan of action.”

Feyre knocked, not wanting to eavesdrop.

The two males went quiet.

“It’s me.” she said softly.

Tamlin opened the door, “Feyre, why are you awake? Is something wrong? Is Nesta in pain again?”

“No, Nesta is alright. She’s recovering from her injury well.” Feyre smiled, “I just couldn't sleep. Thank you for having such good healers treat her.”

“It’s nothing.” Eris muttered, looking away.

“Are you discussing how to save Elain?” Feyre decided to not dance around the subject.

“Yes.” Tamlin sighed, running a hand through his hair, “We’re currently creating a list of places where she and Lucien could have been taken.”

“He most likely took them to a prison in the Night Court.”

“He could be hiding them in a separate palace. Doesn’t Rhysand own several homes? Azriel could be using any one of them.” Eris countered.

“Azriel is practical in that way.” she shook her head, “Why waste time on fancy rooms if the goal is to merely contain?”

He’s not Rhysand.

“We’ll prioritize the prison then.” Tamlin nodded, noting it on the map stretched out across the mahogany kitchen table.

“What is this about a High Lords meeting?” she tilted her head.

“Oh, nothing much. A continuation of the previous gathering to be truthful. Not as many trading deals were agreed upon as people would have liked.” Eris chuckled.

“The meeting is in about two weeks but we’ll be leaving early to investigate the kidnapping.” Tamlin said, “Eris has arranged for several servants and trusted officials to remain and watch over you. I will also have some of my people here, just in case chaos attempts to break out. So, just focus on recovering with Nesta, alright?”

Feyre nodded, eyeing the map, “In how many days will you be leaving?”

“Three.”

Soon.

Tamlin and Eris winnowed to the palace of the Dawn Court, arriving at the designated area for High Lords.

Eris stretched, “Good thing that Nesta is recovering.”

“Yeah.” Tamlin nodded.

Although, her justified grouchiness grates on my nerves.

“What’s with you?”

“What do you mean?” Tamlin grumbled, walking ahead down the hallway, ignoring the servants that bowed to them.

“You’re brooding.” Eris sighed.

“Aren’t you rather chipper for someone who just stabbed their father like eight days ago?”

“No, I am in fact not chipper enough!” Eris smiled coily, “The joy I felt…yeesh Tamlin you should have seen me.”

“Yes, yes, I am sure it was spectacular.”

“You can be dismissive all you want but it was. I sat on a bloody throne.”

“Let’s just hope your rule won’t be as such.”

“It won’t be.” Eris’s smile dropped, a serious tone returning, “I will make sure of it.”

Tamlin hummed, “As to what is on my mind…I am concerned about how we’re going to deal with Rhysand.”

“Nothing much we can do in public.” Eris sighed, “Even though we have some of the powder left, we can’t exactly waltz in and just expose this to all of them.”

“We have to be cautious.” Tamlin agreed, “Let’s observe during the meeting and see what Rhysand’s angle will be. We should try and approach Helion in private to try and explain the situation. How is the investigation going?”

Eris nodded, “No news yet but my officers are on it. We’ll hear back from them soon.”

Their conversation died down as they approached the meeting hall, Thesan greeting them first, “Lord Tamlin…Eris, it’s good to see you two. Will Lord Beron be joining us soon?”

“Unfortunately my father has passed away.” Eris smiled, a little too widely, “I am here in his place. Permanently.”

“Ah.”

Autumn’s intelligence works well at keeping things under wraps when needed.

Tamlin couldn’t help but smile at Thesan’s surprised expression.

I am sure your soldiers will have no problems finding what exact cell Elain and Lucien are being kept in.

“Well, I am happy to have you both here.” Thesan smiled politely, leading them over to the main sitting area.

Helion was already there, chatting with Kallias while Viviane laughed at something Tarquin said. 

“Rhysand must be running late.” Thesan noted, sitting down at the head of the table, “While we wait, would anyone like some te-”

The door to the spacious room swung open to reveal Rhysand, with Feyre on his arm. 

Tamlin blinked. He then looked at Eris who was just barely masking his confusion.

What was happening.

Tamlin stared at Feyre as she sat down beside Rhysand.

“Did something catch your eye Tamlin?” the High Lord of Night smirked, wrapping an arm around Feyre.

Eris narrowed his eyes.

“No, just wondering why you’re late.” Tamlin kept his voice even.

Something was seriously wrong. Why in all of Prythian is she here? Was Autumn Court compromised? There’s no way he launched a full on attack on them and won, especially not without one of us getting notified. 

“Well, what a married couple does on their own time is none of your business.”

Who is the one making crass comments now?

Tamlin gritted his teeth, “No it isn’t. However, punctuality is preferred for political matters.”

“Since when are you an expert in what’s preferred for politics anyways?” Rhysand tilted his head, “I don’t think you are fit to be giving me any sort of criticisms.”

Tamlin growled, unable to restrain the rage boiling underneath.

Was it a lie? Just another trick?

He looked at Feyre, the woman’s eyes blank, staring off into the distance with a slight smile. 

This wasn’t the Feyre he had interacted with the past half a month. Not the Feyre he had yelled at or spoken to. Not the mother he watched tenderly take care of her child.

What if she tricked them?

“What game are you playing at Rhysand?” he snarled.

“What do you mean Tamlin?” Rhysand laughed, “Seriously, did you only have enough energy to be presentable and respectful for one meeting?”

“Difficult to be respectful to someone who uses their daemati powers on others.”

A hush went across the group.

“Tamlin-” Eris pulled him down into his seat.

“No. Eris, we can’t just-”

“Do you want a full out war?” Eris asked quietly.

Tamlin didn’t answer.

“Then sit your ass down.”

Tamlin looked back at Rhysand’s smug expression.

I’ll tear out your throat like I did with Amarantha.

I probably should say I am sorry, but I really am not. 

Feyre gently kissed her sleeping baby as he tugged on the blanket covering himself and Nesta.

I will be back before you two know it.

Feyre got out of bed, pulling on proper clothes.

I can’t wait for Tamlin and Eris to go and save Elain.

She shuddered, imagining the possible ‘punishments’ Rhysand could inflict onto her sister or Lucien.

It’s my fault.

Feyre shook her head. 

This is no time for such thoughts. I need to focus! Mor mentioned that Azriel was the one who took Elain and Lucien. He most likely took them back to the Night Court’s prison.

Highly doubt Rhysand would give them a warm welcome.

Feyre glanced one last time at Nest and Nyx.

I promise I’ll be back soon.

Taking a deep breath Feyre began the journey to the Night Court.

Feyre was grateful Tamlin and Eris had left early, permitting her the time to go rescue Elain. 

It would work out well, while they distracted Rhysand at the meeting, I can get them out. She sighed, avoiding a wagon passing through the shimmering streets of the Night Court.

If only I could winnow longer distances. Of all the powers the cauldron gave me it couldn’t have invested a bit more energy into granting me the most useful and practical ability of all?

She felt exhausted from walking and riding her horse but it would all be worth it in the end. Pulling her hood up close, Feyre made her way past the familiar vendors of Velaris. The sparkling light of the lamp posts reflected off the cobblestone, and the stars in the sky shining brightly. Customers haggled with the shopkeepers, and kids happily ran past her, playing hopscotch. 

I missed this place.

Feyre did appreciate the beauty of this city. Adored the liveliness of it. The memories she had made with him…

She shook her head.

I am not here for that. These thoughts will do no good.

Feyre paid for a room at an inn and left her horse there, sneaking up to the palace using one of the many beloved pathways Rhysand had shown her that he had used to avoid his classes or parents when he had the chance.

Carefully knocking out several guards and slipping in through a back entrance of the castle Feyre tiptoed down the hallway, checking corners for fae. Carefully she made her way downstairs to the prison. The floor was moist and slippery. Feyre gripped her hand into the stone walls, making sure to keep herself stable.

The prison was dark. Soft groans echoed off the walls, quieted as Feyre approached the cells, trying to see who was inside. The further she went however, the more her stomach twisted into an uncomfortable pretzel. 

Where are they? They have to be-Wait. Azriel works as a torturer. Perhaps he has his own jail? To keep the people he was interrogating?

Feyre frowned. 

If that is the case, how am I supposed to-

“Feyre?”

She whirled around to face Cassian.

“By the Mother, we’ve been looking for you!” he took a step forward. She matched.

Feyre looked behind him.

No reinforcements. I can run.

“Are you hurt? We heard you were staying in Spring, and then moved to Autumn. Did Eris or Tamlin hurt you? Did they kidnap you?”

“Cassian, I left of my own accord.”

“Yeah, Rhys said you argued and so you left to take a small break. But I know you wouldn’t willingly ‘take a break’ in either of those places.”

I don’t think I would ever choose a fae court as a vacation spot at this point.

“Cassian, Rhysand has been controlling my mind.” Feyre decided to be honest.

In my current state it will be hard to fight. I have recovered partially but…

She eyed the sword on his hip. 

I don’t want to test where his true loyalties lie in battle.

Feyre knew deep down they were not with her.

“Huh?” Cassian gaped, “What are you talking about?”

“It was after he began teaching me how to use my daemati abilities.” she rambled, “It didn’t happen immediately, but slowly he took power from me and I…I confronted him and he just…took over completely.”

Cassian remained quiet.

“I haven’t been in control since then.” she whispered, “Cassian, please. I didn’t leave to ‘take a break’ I ran for my life. You have to help me free Elain and Lucien, I am scared for them.”

“You’re saying he did this to you?”

“Yes.”

“Rhysand…hurt you like this?” Cassian looked conflicted.

“It’s the truth!”

Cassian shook his head, “For him to do something like this…there must be an explanation.”

“Cassian…”

“There has to be more to it.”

“Cassian, he kept me trapped inside my own mind.” she felt anger tint her tone, making Cassian look away, deep in thought.

“I didn’t realize a reunion was being held down there.” that obsidian voice, as dark as the walls of the cells around them made Feyre scramble back, her eyes falling on Rhys who descended down the spiraling stone steps.

“Feyre, welcome back. If you had told me you were returning I would have greeted you properly.”

Cassian turned to his brother in arms, a small frown on his face, “Rhys, Feyre just said something…strange.”

“Oh?” Rhysand looked concerned, “Not something bad from Spring I hope?”

“She said you used your daemati powers on her.”

Rhysand laughed, not missing a beat, “That was a part of our argument. A huge misunderstanding.”

“Misunderstanding my ass!” Feyre growled, “You forced me!”

“I didn’t force you to do anything darling.” Rhysand corrected, keeping his tone collected and even, “You asked me for help and I delivered.”

“So, you didn’t manipulate her mind?”

“Of course not Cassian.”

His brother nodded.

No!

“That’s not true!” Feyre yelled, “He’s lying to you Cassian! He has been lying to everyone! ”

You have to believe me!

Cassian glanced between the two of them, his expression conflicted, “Rhys…maybe we should-”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Rhys, are you sure?”

“Yes, my mate looks like she’s about to attack us no? Let me handle it.”

Feyre broke her fighting stance, straightening her back, “You’re twisting this.”

“It’s just an observation.” Rhys smirked, “I admire your spirit.”

Cassian nodded, “I trust you…”

Feyre had nothing to yell at the Illyrian, as she watched with betrayed eyes as he left, his own a bit glassy.

“Shouldn’t you look at your mate rather than another male?” his cold voice brought her attention back to the scene.

Feyre snarled.

“Oh, Feyre, darling, I have missed you.” his voice became sweet again, approaching her slowly, as if she were a wounded animal.

“Stay away from me!”

To her shock he obeyed, raising his hands as an act of surrender.

“Feyre, you’re scaring me.”

I am scaring you?

She backed away from Rhysand even though he didn’t approach her.

I have to run.

“You’re not acting like yourself. I understand the argument we had was serious, but we should stop this madness.”

“Argument…?”

“Yes darling, argument.” he smiled.

“W-What are you talking about?” Feyre felt panic bubbling under her skin.

“We had an argument.” he explained slowly, “You thought I did something that I didn’t do. So, we decided some space would do us both some good. Are you ready to have a proper conversation now?”

“No! You mind controlled me! Y-You…”

The expression of confusion, betrayal and hurt that he gave her made Feyre want to tear her eyes out.  

“I didn’t ‘mind control’ you dear. That’s an over exaggeration.”

She blinked in confusion.

“Do you really think I could hurt my own mate?” he whispered, “It pains me to see you get hurt. My heart breaks. In fact, do you know how scared I was when I heard you went to Spring?”

“I left you willingly. You hurt me. You…you’re the monster here!”

“What is this about going there willingly?” he brushed a stay lock of hair out of her face, “Did you forget how he treated you?”

Feyre gasped, feeling the panic she had felt back then resurge, the scenes of her begging and crying to be set free replaying in her mind.

“Oh darling.” Rhysand cooed, pulling her into his arms. 

Stop that!” she shoved him away, shaking the images out of her brain.

“I am just reminding you of what happened dear.” he smirked.

“I don’t need a reminder.” she growled.

“Everyone sometimes does.” Rhysand hummed.

She glared, “Where is Elain and Lucien?”

“Elain…? Darling, what are you talking about?” Rhysand chuckled.

“Where did you take my sister?!” she yelled, grabbing him by his nice dress shirt.

Rhysand looked bemused, “I don’t know because I didn’t take her, sweetest. However, you’re welcome to check every cell in here if you like?”

Feyre narrowed her eyes and the man raised his hands in surrender again, “Promise, no games. Every room is yours to check down here.”

She took a step away from him, seeing if he would try to stop her. When he didn’t, Feyre continued further down the dark hallway, scrunching her nose at the rotting and moldy scent that hit her nose.

But no matter where she looked, she couldn’t find them.

Feyre turned back to Rhysand with narrowed eyes.

He merely raised an eyebrow in response, “Well? Any luck?”

“Fuck you. You’re hiding them somewhere else!”

“Maybe, maybe not.” he drawled, “Does it really matter when you’re not going to find them anyways?”

“What?”

“I mean, can you actually do anything by yourself successfully, Feyre?”

“What kind of question is that?!”

“Well, whenever I see you try to do something independently, you need help.”

“That’s not true!”

“Is it not? It’s okay to need help Feyre. You’re doing your best but you need someone to do the heavy lifting. “

Her heart skipped a beat, feeling his hot breath against her ear, “All you need to do is ask and I am right there for you.

“Fuck off, dickhead.” she shoved him away, walking back to the staircase.

“What are you without me?”

“What?”

“I mean, what can you even do?”

“I protected my family. I fed us.”

“Ha…protected? You sure are one hell of a protector. Ran off with a fae the moment he gave you the chance at a better life.”

“That’s not what happened!”

“Is it not? You seemed happy to enjoy your time at the Spring manor.”

“I was taken, I wouldn’t have left if I hadn’t been lied to!”

“You thought you deserved it. The luxury, the power.” he leaned in, “I concur my dear. You do deserve all that and above. With me you can actually have those things.”

“I helped defeat Amarantha!”

“Feyre, darling, please…truly, what were you under that mountain?”

“I…”

Because what I recall is a pretty little thing dancing in the palm of a faerie’s hand. Ah well, and in other places too.

Feyre went red.

“No need to be ashamed darling. It was quite pleasant, and when it comes to skills it’s something you’re actually good at.”

She looked away.

“You could barely read before me. You only got through those puzzles because of my generosity, my love for you.”

Feyre couldn’t come up with a rebuttal.

“Oh, dear. I am sorry, I didn’t mean to be so forward with you.” he brushed her hair back again, gently turning her to face him, “I know how sensitive you are.”

“I am not-”

“You must have been so frightened all alone.” his fingers felt nice against her scalp, “Tamlin can truly be a brute.”

What…can I even do?

Feyre stared down at the ground.

I always thought I was a good fighter, but I can’t fight him off. He’s right, I didn’t beat Amarantha…I had so much help.

“Darling, look at me, please.” his voice was soft, so gentle. 

Feyre obeyed, tentatively looking up at Rhysand.

“There are those pretty eyes I missed so much.” he smiled, “You had me so worried. We searched everywhere for you. Knowing the way you are, I couldn't just let you get hurt. You understand, right?”

I constantly need help. When was the last time I actually rescued myself? Have I ever even done such a thing?

Feyre felt hot tears rolling down her cheeks.

“I am sorry.” she mumbled, “I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry-”

“Shh.” he pulled her into a tight hug, one that Feyre couldn’t help but find comfort in, “It’s okay. I am here now. You don’t have to worry anymore.”

I am scared.

“Relax for me darling.” he ran a soothing hand up and down her back. 

Feyre felt so tired. Everytime she tried to help or do something to change her situation it only got worse. She only mustered a wriggle as his power gently creeped into her mind, slowly enveloping her thoughts and worries.

I am weak.

I am powerless against him. 

I am nothing.

‘Where the fuck did you put Nyx you poor excuse of a mother?’

She blinked inside the void, watching as he sifted through her memories of the time she had been away.

Nyx.

He can’t know where Nyx is. 

She grabbed onto her recent memories of her child, pulling them down with her into the dark abyss.

The last thing I want to be is a terrible mother. I won’t let you know where he is.

Feyre blinked slowly.

Rhysand hummed, “Have you calmed down now darling?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” he kissed her, “Cauldron, how I have missed you.”

“I missed you too…” she mumbled.

“Let’s get you to bed, you must be exhausted after everything you’ve been.” his eyes narrowed, still searching for where exactly Nyx was being kept, “Although, I must say, I would love to not only have you back but our son too.”

“Of course dear.”

“Mind telling me where you put him?”

“I…” her body blanked, unable to recall the memory with Feyre hiding it.

“Hmm, maybe I shook her up a bit too much.” he said quietly, “No matter darling, we’ll get him eventually, just focus on remaining calm for now, okay?”

“Okay.”

‘Have any fun fighting words for me now dearest?’ his triumphant voice echoes throughout her mind.

Feyre said nothing.

‘Darling?’

I am nothing.

Masterlist

Tag list: @rcarbo1, @planet-faerie, @fox-in-flowers, @bookishfeylin, @mythuzalasheir3, @ahsnazg, @lifeisabiscuit, @wildinspring, @impossibelle, @thefatesofspring

If you want to be added to a tag list let me know :D

[jin-zixun]

the desire to write glee s6 au fic

vs

the desire to not watch glee s6 which would be an implicit requirement to properly writing s6 au fic

[lovesickeros]

☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 2 ]

{☆} characters furina, neuvillette {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings none {☆} word count 1.9k {☆} previous [ 1 ]

This had to be a punishment of some sort – some kind of divine punishment.

She was bored out of her mind just watching the sleeping body – she hadn't blinked once in the past five hours, her eyes were really starting to hurt. Yet they still hadn't moved so much as an inch since she sequestered them away to the only place she had known to be safe.

But it'd been almost a week since then.

The only solace she found was that Teyvat had seemed much less hellbent on collapsing in on itself like a dying star.

That counted for something.

Not much, but something!

..Even if their position was no better then it was a week ago.

There was, after all, still the issue of what to do about the false Creator – the actual imposter – and the Archons following them like blind lambs. The other Archons wouldn't listen if she tried to reason with them, and it would only risk the life of Divine One if she spoke of their location to anyone else.

She also was pretty fond of having her head still attached to her shoulders.

So she avoided them all together. Partially because she wasn't sure she wouldn't have a breakdown at the sight of them..she'd never been a fighter, and fighting an Archon? Easy pass.

Instead she was forced to babysit the sleeping Divine until they woke up while Neuvillette handled taking care of the nation and dealing with the other Archons – and by extension the false Creator.

Really though, she would almost think them dead if not for the subtle rise and fall of their chest.

Though..this also left her with a lot of time to herself. A lot of time to think.

She really didn't like it.

There wasn't a lot to occupy her mind and what little there was only distracted her for a scant few moments before her eyes drifted back to the Divine like she was locked in their orbit, unable to escape.

She closed the same book for the twelfth time – she kept count – and returned it to it's meticulously designed place within her bookcase. A low, barely audible huff of frustration escaped her lips before she could bite it down, her stare boring a hole into the body of the Divine One with a sharp intensity she rarely showed.

She was tired, bored and constantly on edge, fearing that at any moment someone would find out about their presence here.

That, at the drop of a hat, she would be powerless to stop the greatest tragedy of her time play out before her eyes.

Neuvillette would have scolded her for being so petulant, especially around the Divine One, if he were here.

But he wasn't.

He was out running her nation, instead.

And what was she doing? Nothing!

She grit her teeth, nails digging harshly into the palm of her hands as she took a deep breath – now was not the time to think about that. She had..much more pressing matters. Sulking and letting her thoughts spiral helped no one, least of all herself.

Yet her attention was caught by a harsh inhale, the rustle of fabric – were they finally waking up? She was exhausted, but it all vanished at the sudden drop of life within the otherwise deathly still body of the Divine.

Her eyes followed the subtle twitch of their fingers, watching as their brow furrowed and their features twisted in something almost like..pain.

..She wasn't ready.

What was she supposed to say?

Should she even say anything? Would that be considered impolite? Does she wait for them to speak first? Should she kneel? Bow?

She doesn't get much time to find her own answer before their lashes flutter, chest heaving with every strangled breath. Every single thought vanishes from her mind the moment she meets their eyes.

For a long, silent moment she thinks that her heart must have stopped.

Their eyes glow like the cresting of the sun over the horizon, painting the world in hues of gold – yet it also reminded her of the dipping of the moon below the waves, casting the briefest, most gentle of lights upon the world engulfed in darkness. In the depths of their eyes was the birth and death of stars in the infinite cosmos – glittering stars in a sea of empty, blank space that left her feeling lightheaded and breathless.

Beneath the splendor is a spark of recognition in their eyes so vibrant it was like a shooting star piercing through the dark night sky, leaving nothing but the wonder in the eyes of the observer as the only proof it ever existed – brilliant in it's beauty, however brief.

It is the most beautiful thing she has ever seen.

"Focalors?"

The lilt of their voice nearly made her knees buckle beneath her – euphoria so consuming it left her feeling she was starving swallowed her whole, her mind blanking in a moment of utter bliss. It was..an indescribable feeling that she doubted she could ever hope to put into words – not in a way that could properly express it, try as she might.

She swallowed the words that threatened to spill from her lips – she couldn't make a fool of herself. Not in front of them of all people. She'd never forgive herself.

"Divine One," She rasps, clearing her throat and covering her mouth with a hand to mask both her nervousness and the small smile that creeps across her face. She quickly regains her composure, hand resting on her hip as she puffs out her chest with every bit of pride she can manage. "I am sure you must be confused, but worry not– your most loyal acolyte has seen the truth!"

The silence is deafening.

She opens one eye, peaking at the bewildered and almost distraught expression of the Divine.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

That..she was not prepared for. Surely they knew who they were! Surely they knew. They had to– she's been praying to them for as long as she's breathed, she's dedicated every hour of her life to living up to their ideals, they can't just–!

"Lady Furina?"

Neuvillette, thankfully, spares her the embarrassment of having a meltdown in front of the Divine, the gentle rap of his knuckles against the door making her and the Divine pause, the soft lull of his voice soothing her nerves and yet setting her on edge at the same time.

"Neuvillette." She clears her throat again, her steps hurried as she marches to the door and pries it open none too gently, a forced smile pulling at her lips. She wastes no time tugging the man into the room, shutting the door behind him with a short huff. The silence is, somehow, even worse then before as the three of them stare at each other in absolute exasperation.

Neuvillette, for his part, manages to get his act together with a sharp clearing of his throat, bowing so low even she looks unnerved. She steals a brief glance at the Divine, and she's taken aback by the uncomfortability twisting their features into a grimace.

Their expression is schooled back into one of empty apathy when he stands back to his full height, but she saw it – she knows she did! Did they not like their worship? Were they not respectful enough? For a moment, she feared the Divine would smite Neuvillette down on the spot..but they just stared at him like he was a ghost.

"Why aren't you killing me?"

The defeated, resigned tone combined with the way their voice cracks makes her heart ache in her chest – it feels as though her entire world is crumbling down at her feet, and she cannot explain why she feels such emotions so strongly, but it is suffocating. It is almost as if Teyvat itself is weeping, bearing down upon her shoulders like a heavy weight.

She feels the urge to weep herself, but she powers through, gritting her teeth long enough for Neuvillette to take his place at the side of her – though it feels more like their – bed, kneeling like he was going to pray.

"Divine One," He offers a hand with a quiet rumble of his voice, the words slipping off his tongue like honey. It's like trying to soothe a stray cat..though she'd never voice such comparisons of the most Divine out loud. "I..we mean you no harm. I swear on my authority as the Iudex of Fontaine and Chief Justice that you are safe with us."

The skepticism she expected, but the reverence in which Neuvillette must convince them – or perhaps they are simply so tired that they simply did not care any longer if it was all some ploy to drive a knife between their ribs. She didn't expect them to actually place their hand in Neuvillette's.

He didn't either, judging by the way he visibly brightened – not that they'd notice, but she did.

..Not that she could really blame him, her heels clicking against the floorboards as she shifted her weight to the other foot with a nervous energy that was practically bursting at the seams, more then a little jealous of the attention he was receiving. She was the one who found them, she was the one who stayed with them the entire time..but he gets all the attention?

How unfair.

"O-of course! We would never lay a hand on our creator," She adds, her voice a little higher pitched then she would have liked as she placed her hands on her hips, puffing out her chest and brushing off the sting of jealousy. "Least of all I– your most loyal, most devout acolyte!"

She felt baffled when she heard the sound of their laughter, her shoulders hunching and her cheeks flushing on mere instinct – she was expecting mockery, but the look in their eyes, still dulled by a pain she cannot even begin to imagine, made her hesitate.

..It was, perhaps, the most genuine thing she'd heard from them ever since before the hunt began.

She wasn't sure why her heart hurt at such an idea, but it was enthralling to see the beginnings of a half hearted smile on their lips.

For a moment, her mask of theatrics was forgotten as she stared at them in a mixture of awe and adoration– and though she didn't look at Neuvillette, she could imagine he must've shared such an expression.

Had she any doubts that they were her Creator, that they alone were the most Divine..they would wiped clean now. There was no mistaking the way the world itself seemed to grow clearer as they glanced up at her like she was worth something.

For a moment, she realized how cold the false Creators gaze had been now that she has felt warmth so gentle it almost made her knees buckle beneath her. It felt like a pale imitation, now.

Nothing could compare to the warmth that spread through her body at the mere semblance of a smile upon their lips. She didn't even mind if it was her they were laughing at anymore, she just wanted to hear them laugh again.

She'd make a fool of herself, if she had to.

She'd never felt so..ravenous for such a thing, but just the briefest glimpse was addictive.

She simply couldn't help herself from striding across the room and clasping their free hand in her own, her smile wide enough to unnerve as she leaned her weight onto the bed. For a moment, she considered pulling away at the way they startled, but her mind was made up by then – there was no going back.

"Again."

[parisoonic]

more doodles

[yasmeensh]

Story update

I got to write a good chunk of the opening these past two days. Excited to get more work done over March break. And I can't wait to get to writing more about my daughter T-T But she comes in a bit later in the story. Still in the first act, though.

Some more character design doodles:

[idontmindifuforgetme]

There will not be a single moment next week in which I’m not running around doing something

[baede-6]

Saint-14:"Where is it you keep all your knives,Hunter?"

Me:

It's a mystery,Saint.

[furbhii]

i will be at katsucon in national harbor next weekend :) if anyone wants to say hi, ill have my pink furby ita bag with my name on it and a BHO logo pin on my badge lanyard! ill be suiting on saturday as ralsei from deltarune so definitely say hi if you recognize me. i (or my handler if im in suit) will have stickers to give out ;)

[apocalypticdemon]

I am so beyond ready to quit this job. Wednesday cannot come fast enough.

[b-blushes]

unrelated to sandwich blogging i feel so rough rn. the migraine bro. get it out of my me

[befuddled-calico-whump]

I really to catch back up on riot rings, it's been so long

if it makes you feel any better, it's probably been a week at most in-universe 😅😅

[stormyrainyday]

tmi about periods but got mine ~15 days ago which mean it ended about a week ago but it started??? again??? today??? and my parents do not share the same level of concern i do